Alex laughed. “Have a good day.”
“You, too, Alex. Thanks again.”
He left with her painting held carefully in his hands and a wide, toothy grin spread across his face. A familiar warmth spread through her chest. One that never seemed to get old.
She was proud of herself and her accomplishments, of course. Even more than that, Alex was grateful.
Hers was a God-given gift, and she was so thankful for the opportunity to share it with the rest of the world. Or her tiny corner of it, at least.
Business wasn’t exactly booming, per se, but her bills were paid, and her sales remained steady. Not every independent artist could say the same, so for that reason alone, Alex knew she was blessed.
Sure, a showing at Gordan’s L.A. gallery would have almost guaranteed her place on the map. And as much as it shamed her to admit, there was a time in her life when Alex’s desperation would have led her straight to the temptation.
But not anymore.
She was better than that. Smarter, too. And she had too big a conscience to ever sell her soul to the proverbial Devil.
That’s who Gordan was. An evil entity who preyed on the vulnerable and weak. Alex had seen the proof of his unforgiveable sins against the innocent lives he’d so gleefully destroyed.
A man like that wasn’t a man at all, but rather a monster. One she couldn’t wait to see vanquished by her personal hero and his team. A group of brave men and women working behind the scenes without any hope of the recognition they deserved.
Speaking of Colt . . .
Alex turned and walked over to her desk with a smile. Standing near its edge, she reached down and picked up her phone. Her heart flipped a little when shesaw the new text notification with his name and number attached.
Headed to G’s office now.
I’ll stop by the gallery after to let you know how it goes.
Wish me luck.
She checked to see when the message was sent before comparing it to the current time. Colt had texted her shortly after Mr. Winchester had arrived.
Given the Tac-Ops building’s location in comparison to Colt’s apartment, he should be arriving right about now. Alex sent him a few quick words of encouragement, knowing he was about to drop one heck of a bomb on his brother.
You got this!
She put her phone into the back pocket of her khaki capris and reached for her favorite ceramic mug. It was lighter than she’d expected, and it was only then that she remembered she’d already finished her first coffee of the day.
If I’m going to make it through the next few hours here, I’m going to need a lot more caffeine than that.
Alex held the mug’s handle with a firm grip as she turned and walked past various works of art she’d created. Most were paintings, either mounted on the white walls or easels, while a few of her sculptures stood on sleek, white pedestals.
She’d dabbled in that a bit, and while sculpting wasfun, her true passion was painting. Which reminded her, she needed to get more supplies from the loft upstairs to take home for when she became inspired . . . or bored.
You keep letting Colt stay over, you won’t have time to get bored.
Especially if they spent every night like the one before. Not the dinner part, and most definitely not the part where Gordan and his goon had been waiting at her door. No, Alex was thinking about what happened after.
It wasn’t even the sex, although she couldn’t deny it was the best she’d ever experienced. For her, however, it was the time they spent talking. And laughing. God, the man could make her laugh like nobody’s business.
And was there anything sexier than that?
Putting the secrecy and danger that came along with his job aside, Colt was everything she’d ever wanted in a man.He was much smarter than she’d ever given him credit for. He was also strong, warm, and brave. And one of the most surprising and impressive attributes that had recently come to light?—
The man was nothing if not protective.
It was a quality Alex couldn’t remember ever feeling from any other man she’d dated. Not even the one she thought she’d marry. Looking back, however, it was so clear to see how self-absorbed Evan had been.
